There’s a Person in Here

Easy, there’s a person in here.
With no inclination to stop, they pushed their way past.
My mind’s eye: “MME”
There’s a person in here.
Who cares anyway? No need to look inside. Judgment is easy when derived by way of the superficial imprint of one’s human appearance.
Calabasas where lifestyles are those most only dream.
I had found a wonderful parking spot directly in front of the Corner Bakery for us and William & Sonoma, for her – the latter being of little consequence as far as I had been concerned. Eating, yes; cooking, not for me! This particular eatery on the other hand was not only a marvelous place for breakfast or lunch, but it also offered a senior discount. On the first day I became aware of the discount, it came as a little bit of a shock to me. I wasn’t in the habit of inquiring about senior discounts. It has always seemed ludicrous for a man as youthful and as virile as I am to have anything to do with the benefits of age. Asking for anything that depicted any form of decay was never part of my makeup. When a person is a modest man, he falls out of the habit of asking for things; people like that often times volunteer.
The Corner Bakery is the kind of a restaurant where you wait in a cafeteria-style line to place your food order. The people taking your order stand directly behind individual cash registers and the procedure is extremely convenient. We both ordered our breakfast and listened as the server repeated our order (in case a mistake has been made) before announcing the cost of the meal. It was at this point that my wife, who reads everything having to do with food, announces in a charmingly loud voice (sounding exactly like her Midwest Mother), “Make sure to get your Senior Citizen’s Discount.”
While I usually don’t embarrass easily, the smirk adorning the face of the woman in line with her husband directly to my right did make me a little self-conscious. Not knowing or understanding the prospect of me having a person within me, she blurted out to my wife, “Does he qualify to receive the discount?”
My wife, again, and as stylish as her own Mother would put it, dutifully informs the world that, “Oh, he qualifies.”
I immediately turned to the woman and her husband and said (as a quip), “Only when at least one of the partners has remained sexually active.”
No laugh followed. Not even a smile from either of them. The kid manning the cash register gave me a satisfaction wink.
The Corner Bakery proved itself during the ensuing months as an ideal place for me to refine my self-rewarding game of “There’s a Person in Here.”
I guess it makes me a strange sort of duck, or maybe not. After almost a lifetime of playing my own prescribed games of internal and singular participation, it probably won’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows me that I’ve decided to continue on within my own zone. Going along with the premise that just thinking about something will never cause another any harm, it frees me and allows for a great many of the mystical dreams and assertions I so greatly enjoy.
As an example, my reminder of the fact that there’s a person in here, serves my purpose of justification for the extremes my thought patterns allow. Like anyone else out there, I’m free to think anything I like. This allows me to internalize some of the most exaggerated concepts, as I said earlier, without hurting anyone else.
So there I sat, alone in a corner of the restaurant parked clearly within the sight line of the entry door, where all who entered were in perfect view. They took turns coming in and passing by my seat. Some slowly, some clamored, all with the latest electronics of the day. My coffee was particularly good that day. My thoughts were pleasingly mine, and completely internal.
There’s a person in here.
Few if any looked back.
Even fewer returned the least of a passing glance.
I was playing my game again; observing all within my line
There for me to scold as I beheld them
Without gaining their permissions.
There’s a person in here.
What a truly great concept, don’t you think?
Oh, and just in case you’ve forgotten, please say hello to anyone who knows me.

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